


Mackerel Sky

by Juliathenapper



Category: The Mentalist, The Mentalist (TV) RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jane Pain, Jane Whump, Moving On, New Beginning, Romance, jane accident, jane hurt, jane injured
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28941363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliathenapper/pseuds/Juliathenapper
Summary: Jane is struggling with his haunting past most days and doesn’t know what his future holds for him. Perhaps, he thinks, it is time for a change because it doesn’t seem to work like this.AU-ish. Includes but is not limited to: romance/friendship, humor, hurt/comfort, emotional pain and hurting.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic with an aching heart and a desire for drama and hope that you will like reading it. If you do, please let me know by leaving a review or PMing me. This is a multi chapter fic and I’ll update it regularly!  
> Have fun reading,  
> Julia

»Jane, are you ok?« Lisbon looked from the road over to him.   
They had just solved a case in Elk Grove and were on their way back to their base, taking the CA-99 south towards Fresno. Lisbon and Jane were alone in the black SUV. Jane had been particularly quiet since they left. All he had done was gaze absently out the passenger window and not say a word. Left and right of the car, the houses of suburban Sacramento were passing by, one by one, smoldering in the unrelenting summer heat. They had the car windows closed and the air conditioning running full blast. Dressed appropriately for the weather, Jane was only wearing his vest, the sleeves of his dress shirt were pulled up to his elbows.   
»Hm?« He pulled his eyes and attention back inside the vehicle and turned to her.   
»If you’re okay.« she repeated with eyebrows raised, this was exactly her point.   
»Do you know how many types of clouds there are?« he asked and looked back out while keeping his posture more open this time, not shutting her out.   
»Ten, I believe.« she answered casually, to Jane’s surprise. He looked at her intently now. She’d managed to intrigue him.   
»Now, that’s what most people believe« he said playfully, denying her any recognition for her answer, »but that is actually not true. There’s many more, in fact. There’s new ones being discovered till today, in every corner of the world. Did you know there’s a cloud formation called Mackerel Sky?«   
»Like the fish?« she asked incredulously.   
»Yes, like the fish. Mackerel sky and mares' tails make tall ships carry low sails.« he looked back out the window.   
She glanced over confusedly.   
»Old mariners’ rhyme. The very distinct pattern the the clouds that resembled the skin of a mackerel told them that a storm is coming.«   
She opened her mouth to say something when her phone rang. She picked up immediately.   
»What is it, Van Pelt?«  
Jane watched Lisbon on the phone. From the way her eyebrows furrowed and the corners of her mouth moved, he knew that the phone call wasn’t exactly provoking positive emotions in her. He didn’t know that because he read body language for a living but because he had worked with her for such a long time that he just knew what her every facial expression meant without even thinking about it.  
He hung up and he raised his eyebrows at her in a silent question.   
»Arnold has escaped.« she said between tight lips, »He’s injured two policemen.«  
The case they had been working for over a week now had finally come to a close just minutes ago, when they located the prime suspect, Jane’s prime suspect who hadn’t been on anyone else’s radar before. But because Jane tended to be right and because the team tended to stand in front of a cognitive brick wall, they trusted him blindly and arrested the man. Jane had been right and the suspect, upon further questioning at his house in Elk Grove, had fled the scene. Luckily, the local PD had been on standby and had quickly caught the culprit who was then swiftly taken into custody by them. The last time Jane as well as Lisbon had seen him had been behind the locked doors in the back of the police car. Well, maybe those doors hadn’t been locked that well at all in the end, as he had somehow managed to escape.   
At the next stoplight, Lisbon turned the car back around and headed north, back to Elk Grove.   
»Do you have any idea where he would go?« Lisbon asked.   
Jane shrugged and held his palms up, »How would I know?”  
» I feel like someone who knows about Mackerels floating up in the sky might know a few things that I don’t.« she quipped and accelerated the car.   
A few minutes later, they got another call; they had found him but it had come to a standoff.   
Not much later, though still the last to arrive, they pulled up near a rather small bridge going over a creek no more than perhaps 50 ft wide. The suspect was, classically, in the middle of the bridge. Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby were standing, weapons drawn, on the side Lisbon and Jane were arriving from. The local PD was on the opposite side, cornering the suspect. Jane stayed back by the car, behind its door for shelter, while Lisbon threw on her bullet proof vest, drew her weapon and positioned herself alongside her team. Jane watched the suspect. He was nervously aiming his gun from left to right, not knowing who to target, all the while looking down behind himself to where the creek ran under the stone bridge. Jane thought that he would jump. Jane himself wouldn’t, if it was him in that predicament, but he was sure the suspect would. It was obvious that he wasn’t familiar with handling a gun, much less shooting anyone, let alone police. He didn’t come from this Milieu the most young offenders came from. He lived in a good neighborhood with his two parents, his twin brother and younger sister. He was going to high school, getting good grades and from talking to him, Jane knew that he had good manners and treated other people with respect. So no, he would not shoot at the police but neither would he surrender. He knew that on that fateful day, he hadn’t lost his brother to the knife in his hand, but that he had lost his entire family that day, just like that. His life as he knew it was over. Not only was his family broken but his future as well. He knew he would get a harsh punishment. So no, surrender was not an option either. Suicide? No, Jane thought, again the problem with the gun handling. Although Jane was not especially adept in handling one of those things either, he did know how to fire one of time came. Looking at the suspect, he wasn’t so sure.   
Albert glanced down at the creek again. He was trying to see how deep the water was and whether it was deep enough to conceal him and fast enough to get him out.   
All the policemen and agents were taking turns trying to get him to surrender. Telling him that it was over, done, that he’d get a good deal coming with them willingly now, to just put the gun down to the ground. But it all did nothing. Suddenly, Albert dropped the gun and turned to jump over the stone banister into the running water below. But before he got a chance to even leave the ground, a shot rang out.   
Jane got back into the car and closed the door.


	2. Part One: Of Losing Children

»Anyone seen Jane?« Lisbon walked into the bullpen.   
»I think he’s gone upstairs.« Rigsby stated, »I just talked to the family and they’re on their way here. You wanna talk to them?« Cho looked up as well.   
Lisbon let out a breath: »I guess. Two sons in one week.«  
»Don’t blame yourself, boss« Cho said, »They weren’t supposed to shoot.«  
»But they did and now their son is dead.« Lisbon said gravely.   
»Why not let them talk to the family then?« Rigsby asked.   
»Our case,« Lisbon said, »It happened under our jurisdiction. Someone tell me when they’re here, I’ll go up and look for Jane.«   
»Sure thing, boss.«  
Lisbon knocked on the silver metal door only once. The knocking was more of a formal gesture than a question of being allowed to come in. The door was already partially open, so she gave it only a little push before stepping in the room. Jane was sitting with a cup of coffee, his feet up on the wooden table.   
»Hey,« she said, »what are you doing?«  
He shrugged a little, »Drinking tea.«  
»You’ve been awfully quiet today.«  
He looked out the window again: »Why did you know that there were ten different types of clouds, Lisbon?« he asked suddenly.   
»We’re talking about you right now, Jane, not me.«  
»Yes, well, and I am telling you that I am fine.« he said quickly. He took his feet from the table. »Why did you know?« he insisted and looked at her.   
»My dad,« she said softly, »He took me fishing. Only a few times, a very long time ago.«  
Jane just looked at her. She barely ever spoke about her family and her upbringing. Jane knew that her parents were both dead but that was about it.  
»Mh« he commented and looked back out.   
»Sometimes I wonder,« he then said into the ensuing silence »I wonder whether I would’ve taught her those things.«  
»Who?« Lisbon asked. There was a thick moment of silence again, the she understood »Charlotte?«  
He looked at her and briefly pressed his lips together in confirmation. The mood had become chastened, the expression on Jane’s face was one of sadness and melancholy.   
Lisbon had leaned against some old wooden boxes that were standing to the right of the door as opposed to just standing in the middle of the small space. This had taken a darker turn than she had expected.   
»It’s the only thing he’s ever taught me.« she shrugged in an attempt to make him feel a little better, »He wasn’t a good dad.«  
Jane didn’t say anything. There must be, Lisbon thought, so many things on his mind right now. So many memories, so much darkness. She wondered whether there was any way she could help him to pull himself out of all that darkness but then there was a knock.  
»Boss?« It was Rigsby, poking his head through the door, »The parents are here.«  
»I’ll be right down.« she said and Rigsby disappeared again.   
»It’ll be alright.« Lisbon said quietly and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. The she went downstairs. Rigsby was already waiting for her.   
»Jane alright?« he asked. He must’ve picked up on the sombre mood as well.   
»Yeah,« she said, »He’ll be fine.«

»Agent Lisbon.« Albert’s father said, getting up from his chair as she walked towards where they were standing in the hallway by her office. They shook hands. His wife just sat in the waiting area and looked like she was about to cry.   
»We need to speak to you about your son, Albert.« Lisbon said. She could see the concern on both parents faces grow as she accompanied them into one of the interrogation rooms for a little privacy.   
Rigsby and Cho watched from the bullpen. They all sat down at the table. On one side both of his parents and Lisbon on the other side. They could see Lisbon talking and Albert’s mother’s tears finally spilling.   
She exited the room with a solemn face and went straight for a coffee. In the kitchen area, she was surprised to see Jane, busying himself with making a kettle of fresh tea.   
»You look stressed, Lisbon« he said, some of his usual lightness had returned to his voice, she noticed, »Another cup of coffee won’t fix that.«  
»I just had to tell Albert’s parents that their second son is dead because of us.« She poured the coffee into her mug.   
»It’s not your fault.« Jane said.   
»I’ve heard that before.« she said »But it sure feels an awful lot like it. He was just a kid.«  
»A kid who killed his brother.« Jane corrected.   
»That’s supposed to make me feel better, is it?« she retorted, »It’s alright, it comes with the job.« She took her mug and went towards her office. A few minutes of silence and she’d be calm and collected again.   
It wasn’t long until someone disturbed that silence, though, when there was a loud discussion in the hall. 

»Excuse me?« Jane turned around from where he was taking the herbs out of the steaming tea water. »We -« he paused, »You were on his case, too, weren’t you?« It was Albert’s parents.   
»Yes.« Jane answered quietly.   
»Were you there, too?« Albert’s father asked, coming a little closer to Jane, »When he was killed? When our boy, our son, was shot by you people?«   
Jane was looking to the sides evasively, hoping for someone of his team to come along and take this over.   
»Yes, I was there.« he then said.   
The father came even closer, making Jane uncomfortable with his back to the counter. He was a fair bit taller and more muscular than Jane.   
»Did you do it? You the one who shot him?« he looked Jane dead in the eye.   
»No,« Jane said, »I don’t shoot guns. I’m only a consultant.«  
Albert’s father looked a little taken aback by that but quickly caught himself, »Who was it, then? Agent Lisbon wouldn’t tell us. Can you tell us? We need to know.«  
»Sir, can I help you?« Cho was standing right behind the couple. They turned around.  
Albert’s father started to threaten Cho now, instead of Jane, and his wife apologized.   
»I’m sorry. It’s just a very emotional time for us, losing our children.« she started crying again.  
Jane nodded with a false sympathetic look on his face. He had just wanted to make tea. He had just wanted to come downstairs for five minutes.   
»You know what that is like, losing a child?« she looked at him.   
A moment of silence.  
»No, I don’t. I’m very sorry for your losses.«   
With that, he left.   
»Sir, I can assure you, it was an accident.« Cho said to the irascible man. 

Lisbon watched Cho deal with Albert’s dad for a moment and when she saw that it was under control and Cho was slowly leading the towards the elevator, she focused back on the case report she started writing. That day, she wrote it until the lamp on her desk was the only one left burning on the entire floor. 

The next day, they got a new case.


	3. Two: Of Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new case coming along and Jane and Lisbon hurt each other. Can they mend fences while solving the case?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos; it means a lot to me! If you like the story, please consider doing the same :)   
> This is Chapter Three, so let's get into it!

Half Moon Bay: That's where their next case was. Lisbon read the name in the case file. She'd been there once or twice while she'd been with SFPD at the beginning of her career, years ago. It hadn't been far then. It was the SFPD now, too, who'd referred this case over to the CBI. It was rather unusual for them to get a case from the SFPD but they had told her on the phone that they were short-staffed for some reason and that they wouldn't be able to handle a murder right now. Lisbon agreed to take the case, of course. After all, they had just finished Albert's case for good and were now free to do something else.  
The unit was supposed around noon that day to look at the crime scene and talk to the witnesses and family in person. It was a one-and-a-half-hour drive from Sacramento and Lisbon was happy to get out of the city. It'd been a while since they'd had a case that required them to leave Sacramento and all the suburbs and smaller cities around. Also, Lisbon wondered whether she'd recognize her old district, whether it would seem familiar and whether there'd be any SFPD cops that she still knew. She just sat at her desk for a moment and remembered her old boss, how she started out, her first case and it made her smile.  
Jane sat in his safe space in the attic and thought. He had been sitting and thinking like this for a while, watching the air conditioning vent rotator thingy turn relentlessly on the roof, right outside his window. It is important to mention that his thinking hadn't exactly lead anywhere yet as there were a lot of questions with very few corresponding answers in his head. He was sipping tea, naturally, because it helped him to wake his mind and body, which weren't exactly at their best after a night on the rather hard cot that he had built himself in the corner. His supply of tea was coming to an end, though, and he contemplated to go down and make more. He felt fragile. The idea of going downstairs into the bullpen felt alien to him. He remembered the day prior, the couple, Albert's parents, asking him whether he'd killed their son. The case hadn't even particularly bothered him while he was working it but Albert getting shot had done something to him, triggered something within him. He wasn't in the mood for talking. He didn't feel like thinking about anything he didn't want to be thinking about. There was something heavy inside him most - if not all - days but today, today it was even heavier than usual. Too heavy to just push it in the corner of his mind and pretend. To heavy to not think about it. Then, he heard footsteps coming upstairs and let out a long breath. Who was going to see him?  
Lisbon went upstairs to tell Jane of the new case and their trip to the ocean. She was confident that Jane was going to love it. Especially after sitting in that old, dark, dusty hole of this for so long. She knocked twice and immediately entered.  
"I'm not coming." He said without turning around.  
"What? You don't even know what I was going to ask." Lisbon said, her voice high-pitched.  
"I'm busy, Lisbon." He still didn't turn around.  
Lisbon looked around and saw the rumpled sheets on his make-shift bed.   
"Have you been here all night?" she inquired.  
Jane still sat with his back to her, facing the window. "What do you think? I was thinking."  
She had witnessed this kind of behavior many times before and knew exactly what it was; he was in too deep.  
"Jane, you can't just drop into this hole and live in the attic for days. That's not gonna help anyone. We have a case. It's in Half Moon Bay near San Francisco. Come with us, you'll like the fresh air, the sun, the ocean. It'll clear your mind." Lisbon offered.  
"Clear my mind? How's that supposed to work?"  
"Figuratively speaking." She became impatient, "You coming?"  
"I'll sit this one out, Lisbon." He took his last sip of tea.  
"Why are you so busy then? What is it you're doing?" she asked quizzically.  
"I'm thinking." He said evasively.  
"About what?" she asked, "Red John?"  
He finally turned around to look at her: "I'm not getting any closer, Lisbon."   
"You will eventually. If anyone can catch him, it's you."  
He snorted, "Yeah." He turned back around.  
"Jane, c'mon, don't be like that!"  
"Like what, Lisbon? What am I being like? Overdramatic? Self-pitying?" His voice got loud as he turned to her once more.  
"Jane, you know I didn't mean it like that, I-"  
„I'm trying to figure out how to do this, how to get close to him, how to catch him. And I've been doing so for years, without any notable success."  
"Jane, you know that's not true-"  
"It is eating me up inside, Lisbon. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't breathe without thinking about them. About the justice I still haven't given them. How I failed them. Do you think I want to sit in here and wallow in self-pity? Because I don't. What I would like to do is to teach my daughter how to ride a bike and play hide and seek. But yet, here I am and can't." He clenched his jaw and looked to the ground.  
Lisbon didn't feel like his anger was directed at her as much as it was directed at himself. After a short break, he continued:  
"So no, Lisbon, I don't want to come to Half Moon Bay with you and I don't want to work a case right now. I don't know that I want to work anymore at all." His gaze was stony as he looked up at her. Then he looked away.  
"What are you talking about?" she was taken aback by his statement.  
"It doesn't feel right anymore, Lisbon. I feel like I'm running in circles going nowhere. I worked an entire week on finding out who had killed that boy Jonathan Moloy and when I did figure out that it was indeed his twin brother who had killed him, he died the same day." His voice was sharp.  
"It isn't your fault he's dead. He fled. He decided to kill his brother and escape the police. He made two very bad decisions."  
"Those weren't his decisions. He'd been diagnosed with Schizophrenia, he was delirious. Didn't know what was real and what wasn't. He had very poor control over his emotions. It was his disease that killed his brother, not him. And now he's dead too and another week has passed and all I have done is looked at parents who lost their children without getting any closer to avenging my own." Self-hatred shone in his eyes.  
Lisbon felt sorry for him. She felt sorry that he had to feel this way, that he had to hate himself. She wished that there was anything she could do to help.  
"It all leads to nothing." he said then, into the silence, "People will die every day, that won't ever stop. And by solving these murders we don't make this world a better place. I know you like to tell yourself that but," he stopped and looked her in the eye, "it is a lie. It doesn't do you any good. I don't know whether doing this is right for me anymore." His voice sounded tired.  
There was a moment of silence while Lisbon took in his words.  
"So, you wanna leave?" her voice was quiet.  
Jane just looked at her, deep into her eyes, begging for her to understand. He hadn't meant to say what he said. He hadn't materialized the thought of leaving the CBI inside his head before she came in. It hadn't been something he was hiding from her but talking to her like this, being honest, had led him to say it out loud.  
"Jane, please think about this. You're going through a rough patch and I get it, you're under a lot of pressure but don't do anything stupid. You need us and we need you." He looked at him earnestly.  
"Stupid?" he was hurt by her words. He had been being honest and his feelings, his truth had been invalidated.  
"This is not a rough patch, Lisbon. This is my life. And it's been like this for too long. I just can't do it anymore. Not like this! I know you think you're saving the world and you know it all but you don't. I don't need you. As you said yourself, if anything can catch him, it's me. Not me and you, not me and the team but me. I know that you need me to solve your cases but I think you'll do all right without me. In the end, I'm only a consultant."  
"Then why did you even come here in the first place?" she said. She didn't want to admit it but she was hurt. Like their friendship, their memories, their accomplishments all meant nothing to him, like all this has ever been was a mistake, a misstep.  
"All right then," she said, "I can't force you to stay with us idiots if we're apparently so much in the way of your hopes and dreams." she mocked, "But tell me ahead of time if you're planning to just walk out of here because then we won't have to bother searching for you." With that and without another word from Jane, Lisbon went back downstairs.

"Guys, I'll go ahead and drive there now." Lisbon walked into the bullpen.  
"All right boss. Do you want us to come?" Rigsby seemed startled by the sudden change of plan.  
"No, you drive up there when you're ready. The address is on my desk."  
"Will do, boss." With that, she walked downstairs and got into the black CBI vehicle.  
Lisbon was on the CA-99, leaving Sacramento. Her driving reflected her emotional state; he overtook most cars on the road without caring too much. She then merged onto the I-80 W towards San Francisco and tried to focus on the case. It was a one-and-a-half-hour drive so she had plenty of time to think. Even though it was well before noon, the sun was high in the sky, bringing with it the unrelenting California heat. The closer Lisbon got to San Francisco, the more familiar the signs with routes and street names appeared. They called old memories into her head but she didn't care to take a trip down memory lane. She was mad and hurt and felt tired even though it was still early in the day.  
She soon, even with her best efforts to avoid it, found herself brooding over Jane again. His words kept resonating in her mind. They made her sad.  
The drive felt much too short to process all the things she was feeling at once. She wasn't in the mood for a case. She wasn't in the mood to get out of the car. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. She had, once again, dove into work to avoid thinking about painful things that should be thought about.  
But this was the way it was.  
"Linda Cahill, 36. She was found at the foot of a cliff by a passerby. We thought at first that maybe it was an accident — which isn't uncommon around here — but we found injuries that aren't consistent with a fall." A cop from SFPD updated her while they were walking toward the scene. Mrs. Cahill's body came into view. She lay at the bottom of a perhaps 10 ft drop, her extremities splayed out. There didn't seem to be a lot of blood. Lisbon squatted down to get a closer look.  
"There's an open fracture to her right clavicle, as well a lot of bruising and contusions. We found blood under her fingernails and bruises on her neck that didn't look like they would've stemmed from the fall." A coroner nearby explained to her. She nodded and got back up. It was hard for her to focus.  
Lisbon looked around for the first time since arriving. The landscape was beautiful. The ocean was to her left, lined by the steep, raw cliffs of the bay. The rocks were dark grey and barely had any vegetation on them. She was on top of the cliff where there was long and healthy, thick grass. The drop the victim had fallen from was elevating itself from the top of the cliff. Like a thorn on a dragon's back. Even though she'd been here before, it was still as breathtaking as the first time she'd seen it, Lisbon thought, Jane would like it here. She shook the last thought out of her head as fast as she could.  
"There's more evidence further down the cliff if you want to see it." The SFPD officer offered. He was young, much younger than Lisbon so she doubted she'd ever seen him in her time in San Francisco.  
"Further down?" Lisbon asked him. These cliffs were going at a 90° angle downward, where would there be evidence?  
"There are stairs." He clarified and down they went.  
The stairs he had spoken of were embedded in the rocks and more of a collection of little not-so-steep plateaus than actual stairs. Lisbon and the SFPD officer climbed down slowly, all the way holding on to a make-shift railing that someone had put up on one side and on the other side holding on to every ridge in the rocks she could get a hold of. Eventually, they arrived to two people on a bigger plateau who were examining pieces of the victim's clothing stuck in the rocks. There was also almost like a kind of cave going into the rock wall. It was shallow but gave Lisbon the chance to stand a little further away from the edge. She didn't have a particular fear of heights but in this case, with the ocean waves crashing beneath her, she didn't want to push her luck. Even though they had climbed downwards for a while, there was probably still a drop of at least 40ft.  
Lisbon looked at the piece of fabric and they showed her a dark blood smear across on the rocks, maybe 20 inches long. It didn't seem to be coming from the victim, though, as the only blood Mrs. Cahill had shed was where her broken clavicle had poked through her skin but there hadn't been enough blood for her to make a smear like this. Also, Lisbon notices, the stain was pretty high up on the rocks. She would need to stretch her arms up to even reach it, let alone drag her body along there and cause a smear like that.   
"Find out who's blood it is." Lisbon said, "Did she have a family?"   
"Yes, ma'am, she had a husband." The officer said.   
"Where is he? Is he here?"   
"No, we couldn't contact him yet." He said.  
The policeman received something on his radio and answered curtly.  
„Your team is here." He informed Lisbon.  
"All right then, let's go back up." Already? Lisbon wondered briefly but discarded the thought and started climbing back up.  
When Lisbon could finally look over the top of the cliff again, she felt relieved. She didn't know how much the height had bothered her until now. She instantly saw the second black SUV parked next to hers and walked towards it. Van Pelt and Rigsby got out, closely followed by Cho. And then, there was someone else walking around the car; it was Jane.


End file.
